Cat & Drew's Whirlwind Adventure

32. You+Me

Quiet greets me when I awake the next morning, utterly drained. I've grown tired of becoming lost in the lines of my ceiling, so I get up and dress swiftly to leave them behind. No news is good news, right? If something horrible happened to Troy then surely someone would've gotten word to me, so in the interim I have to find my patience and wait it out. This isn't anything new, it's like when he was grounded all over again, and that ended up working out okay. I lie, and pretend like it only feels worse because of what my parents told me yesterday—that my feelings are simply blown all out of proportion and I'll just wait that out too. Or at lease until Thursday, when I can talk to my therapist about it.

Mom welcomes me for breakfast, but otherwise doesn't say much, same as yesterday. I believe her when she said it wasn't an easy decision, so I garner there's plenty she's working through on her own too. While I want them both to be happy, and I wish I could be here for her, I come out of it all a little resentful. Did they try everything they could? Did they even consider going to therapy like they pushed so hard on me? It's selfish, I know, which is why I could never say it to either of them, even when they asked if I had any questions, but it ruins the routine I have become utterly dependent on in my recovery. Now nothing will be the same.

Best I can do is bottle it up for the time being, I've had enough experience in the matter that I make it through breakfast and the silent car ride to school without event. After she's dropped me off I don't go in, I don't know how I could be expected to sit and learn or absorb anything when so much is in the air, so despite the angry grey sky which heralds an early spring rain I slink off campus before I can be spotted. I hear Cat's words in my head about irony, and while this may not be what she meant exactly, it certainly is ironic that I would be tested like this so soon after declaring my intention to reclaim my life.

Just wait it out. I think it over and again, putting in my earbuds to listen to the playlist Troy made for me way back when. It's the little piece I have of him, aside from the backpack stashed in my closet with all the other undesirable things. He had said to call him, day or night, if I ever wanted to hurt myself, but he must not have accounted for a situation such as this, because he's not here and I'm back to being alone. I'm not suggesting I want to cut, but under duress my mind falls back to old habits, and I wonder if I'll ever really be free from the thoughts as dark as these.

Even if I get better, now that I've gone down that road, are these simply the scars I'll bear for the rest of my life, akin to the one on my arm?

My feet carry me but I only listen to the music, so unaware of the path I've carved through town until I'm standing in front of the shop. I haven't been back in since I quit, yet I consider it, imagining what I'd say to Coach if I saw him. Would he tell me about Troy? My self-assured boyfriend was adamant that he wouldn't be kept away from me, come hell or high water, but seeing as I haven't heard from him I regress into all the worst thoughts. Wait it out, I tell myself again. It's nothing more than comfort at this point, but I take my phone out to try calling him, leaving a short message when it goes to voicemail. That's not enough to assuage these worries though.

I'm dedicated enough to getting better that I won't give in or hurt myself, but I still can't stand this, being alone with the not knowing. Apparently I've reached the level of desperation I've been denying, because before I can think through the ramifications I dial up Cat next. It rings only twice before I come to my senses and hang up, kicking myself for being so rash. I'm stopped completely when thunder rolls overhead, drawing all my attention with a comforting rumble to fill my chest. Looks like rain. Next my feet carry me, perhaps somewhat subconsciously, to the park where Cat and I would meet. Angry as I am, there's no denying that I miss the girl I would drink here with.